Bio: Margaux Chéri Rogét

[LtCmdr Roget 0]

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The information that is to follow is for historical relevance only.  No such records exist in StarFleet historical data or personnel files.  Under no conditions would any member of the crew have access to this information or know the details therin.

 

 

   Megan watched Atragon leave, feeling a heaviness in her heart she had never felt before.  Never had she allowed herself to become involved with anyone for the sake of love alone.  Never had she let her heart take wings as she had with him, and now they both would suffer for it.  She desperately wanted to tell him where she was going, what she was doing. She let out a long sigh.  It was impossible.  In order for both of them to escape the horror of Promixa Centuri, the threatening menace of Melville she needed to set her plan into motion.

 

   "The security of the outpost has been compromised,"  Melville had said, as he remained seated at his desk, "All personnel have been reassigned.  It will be your duty, Dr. Cummings, to see that the labs are destroyed, eliminating all evidence of our work here."  He sneered over the word work, and Megan felt a small internal convulsion although her outward appearance remained unchanged.  "You are to report to Tibus VI for debriefing and reclassification.  I will, of course, be meeting you there."  Megan nodded, leaving the room, waves of anger moving before her.  The last place she would ever go was Tibus VI.  Never trust anyone, her uncle had taught her, and as sure as the day was long she did not trust  Melville.

 

   She packed up only the most essential of her belongings and left an encrypted message for Atragon, praying that it would be enough.  Her lab coat and science officer's uniform she hung up and placed back into her closet, and slipped in the familiar black jumpsuit.  She tied back her long red hair and silently made her way toward the medical treatment facility.  It was sheer luck that a vessel transporting a college anthropology group stopped at the outpost.  One of the students had taken ill and the vessel they were traveling on had very in the way of a sickbay.  The young woman had stayed behind, in the care of the outpost's medical staff while the group she was with continued on.  Megan had checked on her a few times, obtaining all the information she could about the girl.  She strode into the hospital room and stood looking at the unconscious form.

 

   "Any changes, Dr. Miller?" Megan asked, looking over the girls' chart.  

 

   "None.  It is totally perplexing, however we will continue to search for answers."

 

   "That may be difficult," Megan responded matter-of-factly.  "The Commander has ordered us to bug out.  You have three hours.  Waste your time and miss the transport and only death will await you."  She fixed an icy stare on Dr. Miller willing him to question her orders.

 

   "The patient," his voice trailed off.

 

   "Is none of  your concern. I will secure her transport back to Earth.  I believe you a sizeable job ahead of you, Doctor.  I wouldn't tarry."  Megan turned and walked out of the room and began collecting the patient's belongings.  She waited until Dr. Miller exited her room and then returned.  "All right, Ms. Rogét, it seems that you and I will be getting very well acquainted over the next few days."  Megan attached a communication device to the girls hospital gown.  "Computer, Transport two to ship 143 Sierra Romeo, authorization Cummings Whiskey 979". The two women shimmered and then disappeared.  No traces of them were to be found in the following catastrophe that overcome the Lincoln Outpost.

 

 

tbc...